


Ten Minutes

by FreyReh



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-07-22 16:24:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 10,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7445899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreyReh/pseuds/FreyReh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little short stories written in ten minutes. Yes... TEN MINUTES.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dance

Note: I like giving myself little ten minute challenges when I'm suffering from boredom or writers block. All the pieces you find in this little diddy will be pieces that took me ten minutes to write. I DO go back solely for editing purposes but I never change a large portion of the story save for grammar/spelling errors. Now, on with the show! This first one is one that I did for my Captain Canary A-Z Challenge on Tumblr! 

 

Title: D is for Dance  
dis: I don't own LOT

**Start Time: 9:11pm**

She’d asked him to dance and he’d declined. He really wasn’t much of a dancer. Never had been. He learned some dances, it came with the job, he wasn’t completely useless. One never knew when a situation called for blending in to make an escape. He remembered a time in Prague. He’d had to find a partner and dance his way out of the line of sight of numerous guards upset about the diamond he’d stolen. The gala had been a perfect cover. He’d been a waiter on the way in and a man escorting a one-night stand on the way out. Oh, he’d ditched the woman after he’d made it out of the museum. She’d cursed him in many languages, too, as he’d patted his pocket: happy with his score. 

He was currently happy he’d chosen not to dance with Sara. He’d told her he’d watch and she’d handed him her beer and an impish look in her eyes before turning her back to him. She’d done it on purpose, the slow sway of her hips that had him taking a drink of his beer to be rid of the sudden dryness in his mouth. Maybe she liked knowing she was being watched by him. The thought had his eyes wandering from her ass up to her face where he saw a small upward turn of her lips one could mistake for her being lost in the music.

He knew better. 

She knew _exactly_ what she was doing.

Unfortunately, his show didn’t last long, and instead of enjoying the view of her swaying hips he instead got a new kind of entertainment. Entertainment that involved her bringing a man over twice her size down to his knees. He’d shared a look with Mick while she’d been kicking and punching her way through the men wanting to take her on. 

_‘I like her.’_

Soon, he was smashing the beer bottles down on the ground and swinging his fists alongside her. Later, he’d think that Sara had gotten her dance. A violent dance filled with punches and broken bones. They’d been the perfect pair… Trio if you counted Mick. It made Leonard start to think what it would be like to actually dance with Sara Lance. 

Perhaps next time he would say yes. 

**End Time: 9:21pm**


	2. S'mores

note: i had written this one a while ago, decided to repost this here! this was the first ten minute challenge I actually did for Captain Canary!

**Start Time: 3:47**

She found him sitting on the dock by the lake. They were between missions and Rip had seen to them resting in a place instead of spending a week or more in the timestream. It was another one of those protective pockets similar to where they’d left their past selves one time. He had his boots off, socks tucked inside them, and his feet in the water. It was a warm day, and despite that he was still wearing his long sleeves and jeans, which he rolled up to not to get the hems wet. He looked over his shoulder upon hearing her approach and nodded as she came to his side. She sat with him, pulling off her sandals and setting them beside her before sticking her feet in the cool water as well. The sun was strong and she felt the heat press at the top of her head and against the bare part of her shoulders not covered by the simple tank she wore. 

“Am I bothering you?” she asked, meaning that if he’d wanted time alone, she’d be happy to go. 

“No,” he answered, looking from her out to the lake. No one else was around in their little area, thankfully, but he could still see boats off in the distance.

“Ever go as a kid? To the lake? Camping?”

“Once,” he said. “During one of my dad’s good moments. He packed up the car and took Mom and I before she got too sick. It had been… Interesting. We didn’t do much. I remember swimming with Mom. I think. I was young.”

“Oh…” Sara scissored her legs in the water. 

“You?” he asked, looking down and eyeing the minnows swimming around his toes. 

“Yeah. Dad always had us going. _We’d_ complain, _he’d_ complain about having girls instead of boys, but… It was fun.” Sara kicked out sightly, splashing the water forward before settling her feet once more. “I liked making s’mores.”

“Never had them.”

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, turning to look at him, mouth slightly open in shock. “Never?”

He shrugged a shoulder. 

“Well, we’ll have to fix that.. We can make some.”

“It’s not that big of deal, Sara,” said Leonard. 

“Maybe not, but now I’m craving them,” she said. She looked back and chuckled. “Uh oh.”

“What?” he looked over his shoulder and sighed. Ray and Stein were on their way with fishing poles and gear. “Should have figured this wouldn’t be our spot for long.”

“Our spot, huh?” asked Sara. “To be fair, you were here first.”

“Yeah but I _like_ you,” he argued, pursing his lips before looking out at the lake. “What I mean to say is… You don’t annoy me like they do.”

Sara smiled, nudging him with her shoulder before the heavy clomp of feet had the dock swaying. 

“Hey guys! Beautiful day, isn’t it? Great day for fishing. Don’t you think, Professor Stein?”

“Obviously, Ray, or I wouldn’t be here,” said Stein, shaking his head. 

“Right… You two want to join us?” asked Ray.

“Snart and I decided we’re going to make some s’mores,” said Sara, standing, offering her hand. He took it. “Maybe next time.”

They gathered their shoes and walked off the dock. Neither of them really realized they were still holding hands until Sara awkwardly let his go. Both looked away toward where the ship was. 

“How about I go get the stuff to make it, and you find some good wood for a fire?” she asked. 

“This was _your_ idea. Now you’re putting me to work?” Sara pouted. He huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes. “ _Fine_. Bring some booze while you’re at it.”

“Deal,” she said, walking away. Leonard pulled on his socks and boots and went to find some wood. He wasn’t really ALL that upset while gathering wood. It just meant he got to spend more time with Sara, anyway. When she came back, he already had the fire going. “Nice! Now, are you ready for the best treat ever in the outdoors?”

“Hit me with your best shot, Lance,” he said as she settled next to him. 

**End Time: 3:57pm**


	3. Pokemon GO

dis: i dont own LOT

**Writing Start Time: 4:20pm**

“So which one is yours?”

Sara looked up from her phone to see a man standing over her on the sidewalk by where she was sitting on the bench. He was tall, with slightly graying hair, and wearing all black. His blue eyes captured hers through his thick-framed glasses. He was holding a cup of coffee and took the spot next to her on the bench, crossing his ankle up over his knee before taking a sip. 

“Excuse me?” asked Sara Lance, confused.

He pointed out at the crowd of people walking around the park with their heads down in their phones. Since the launch of _Pokemon GO_ , the park had started to become a crowded place again. Sara had a couple friends that liked to play the game who insisted on stopping at the park on their way home. She’d reluctantly agreed. They’d had her download the app a while ago and she’d played a little but had lost interest and decided to sit on the bench instead. 

“You have the same look on your face that I did when I started getting asked to drive my sister and her boyfriend here for this new game.” He pointed over at a group of three people. One was a young woman around Sara’s age, a young man with black hair, and the last was a taller man with a red shirt on. “They’re over there with a friend of theirs. I was hoping to avoid this tonight.”

Sara laughed before pointing at a blond with glasses and a tall man with sandy brown hair. “My friends Felicity and Ray dragged me here after dinner.”

“So you don’t play?” he asked, nodding down at her phone. “I noticed the app wasn’t up when I walked by.”

“I tried,” said Sara. “They were so excited to teach me. Then they yelled at me for choosing the wrong team and started giving me “ _tips_ ” so I gave up.” She held up her phone. “I just check Facebook and my e-mail while I’m here.”

“Good move,” he said, looking up as his sister started cheering. 

“Len! I got a Ponyta!” shouted Lisa. 

“Good for you, Sis,” called back Leonard before looking at Sara with a smile. “I have no idea what that means.”

Sara shrugged before nodding at his coffee. “At least you came prepared. There is no coffee in this for me tonight. I’m Sara, by the way.”

“Leonard,” he said offering his hand. She took it, shaking it, aware of the small tingle of electricity that traveled up her arm as he touched her. “And can I just say I’m feeling less and less annoyed for being dragged here tonight.”

“Is that so?” asked Sara, shifting a little to face him more, crossing her legs in his direction while smiling brightly. A part of her wished she’d worn something more alluring tonight than a pair of jeans and a black tank top. 

“Indeed it is.”

They sat for a while and talked about random things. What they did for a living, what new movies were out that they wanted to see, and by the time the park started to empty out they were even more reluctant to go. Leonard was soon being called over by Lisa, Cisco, and Barry. 

“Looks like it’s time for you to go,” said Sara, sounding disappointed. 

“Looks like. So, Sara, how would you feel about maybe-”

“Sara! Ready?” asked Felicity as she bounded over. “Oh, sorry, was I interrupting?”

“No you’re good,” said Sara, pulling a pen out of her bag and nicking Leonard’s cup out of his hand. She scrawled her name and number on it before handing it back. “Call me. Maybe we can set up a play date for the kids.”

He took his cup back with a smirk as she rose, pulling her purse over her shoulder. “I’d like that. It was nice meeting you, Sara.”

“You, too, Leonard.”

**Writing End Time: 4:30pm**


	4. Punch

Sara held the ice pack to her hand, practically pouting while watching TV. She couldn’t believe her father grounded her for punching Thaddeus Thawne in the face for being a dick. He’d been insulting a younger girl at her school, Lisa Snart, and grabbing at her despite the girl telling him to stop. Sara wasn’t a person who tolerated that kind of behavior. So she’d stepped in. All it took was for him to call her the ‘c’ word and she’d let her fist fly. He’d hit the floor and had a hard time getting up. 

She’d stood tall and proud, despite the need to shake out her hand, and the chickenshit had run away. She’d then turned to Lisa, who she could see had been fighting back tears, to make sure she was okay. Of course, Sara Lance had been ratted out by Thaddeus, and had ended up in the principal’s office. Principal Stein was fair, however, and had just sent her home for the weekend. She could come back Monday, which was a relief, because she was certain her dad would have freaked if she’d gotten suspended longer. 

Her phone rang and she looked down at the screen, frowning when she didn’t recognize the number. She hesitated before picking it up and answering. 

“Hello?”

“Is this Sara Lance?” asked a masculine voice she didn’t recognize. 

“Yeah… Who is this?”

“My name is Leonard. I’m Lisa’s brother.”

“Oh… Hi.”

“I wanted to call you and thank you for hitting that schmuck today at school,” he said. If Sara listened very closely she could hear the sound of water running and dishes clattering. “Lisa told me about what happened. And how the punk probably won’t be bothering her for a while. Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you. You didn’t get into much trouble, did you?”

“Ah, no, I get to go back to school Monday.”

“And how’s the hand?”

Sara smirked. “It stings. But it was totally worth it. How… Did you get my number?”

“Oh… I have my ways,” he said and she KNEW he was smiling. Suddenly her attention was completely on him and not the latest drama on E! “Lisa is friends with Cisco, who is friends with Barry… Who knows Oliver….”

“Who is dating my sister,” finished Sara for him. “That’s a lot of people to go through just to say thank you. And Lisa already did that, by the way.”

“I know,” he said. “I just wanted to say it, too. Anyway, if you’re not in too much trouble, Lisa is having people over and she wanted you to come. She knows you’re older but we’re hoping you’ll make the exception and be uncool and hang with the younger kids.”

“Hang? Is this the nineties?” she asked, unconsciously twirling a piece of hair. 

“Did you just call me old?” he bantered back.

“Maybe… So… Saturday? If I can get out of being grounded I’ll be there. Just text me your address.”

“Good,” said Leonard. “I’ll see you then, Sara.”

“Okay, Leonard…” She hung up then fought the urge smile while launching off the sofa to go to her room. She started rummaging the closet, looking for something to wear. She said she’d go to the party for Lisa… But now she was _really_ looking forward to meeting Leonard.,.

So long as she could find something to wear. 

“LAUREL?!”

**END**


	5. Fall Challenge

Note: Just a little tidbit before I go do stuff for the day. A submission for the issued Fall challenge! Working on the Halloween list, now! :)

.

.

.

Sara loved this time of year. Fall was always her favorite season and she was basking in her love of it now. All was quiet around her save for the gentle sound of the lake water lapping up on the shore. She sat at the end of the dock, sipping her coffee, while the rising sun did its best to disperse the heavy fog that’d fallen over the area. She inhaled deeply, the damp air soothing her, before pulling the borrowed jacket around her tighter. Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear she looked around at the trees, the reds and golds the most vibrant colors that stood out this early in the morning. 

Behind her she heard the door to the cabin open and close and she smiled while heavy footfalls came toward her. She knew who it was and waited. Boots met the dock and the thunk of them meeting the worn wood stopped as he settled next to her with his own cup of coffee. 

“Hey,” she greeted, resting her head on his shoulder. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby.” He settled the hand that wasn’t holding his cup of coffee on her knee. “You’re up early.”

“Wanted to enjoy the view. This is the best time of day.”

“That it is… Nice jacket.”

“Thanks,” said Sara, pulling at the fabric of the familiar blue parka, turning her nose into the fur of the hood that was down, enjoying the feel and smell of the fabric. “I needed to wear more than just my pajamas out here. Aren’t you cold in just a t-shirt?”

“Nah.”

“Rip will want us back soon.”

“Rip can wait.” He brought up his left hand, tenderly cupping her face, the gold band around his ring-finger shining as brightly as the sun as it finally broke through the fog. “We _are_ on our honeymoon, after all.”

END


	6. Banana Bread

made some bread today, and now inspired to write about it

**Start Time: 4:27pm**

Laurel Lance came from her bedroom after the smell of something baking woke her up from her deep slumber. She rubbed her tired eyes with one hand and stifled a yawn with the back of her other hand. She studied the kitchen once entering it and the frown only deepened. The counter was dusted with flour, had cracked eggshells on it, and had numerous banana peels plopped on the normally polished marble. There was a bowl that hadn't been fully scraped out sitting on the there as well, batter from the lip of the mixing-bowl dripping onto the counter with the rest of the baking supplies. Her eyes traveled to the small blonde that was her sister, crouched in front of the oven, her blue eyes eagerly watching the glass pan inside. She looked worried and was biting her lower lip. Laurel cleared her throat and she took pleasure in seeing Sara jump. Her sister was never so easy to sneak up on.

"Laurel!"

"What are you doing?"

"Uh... Making banana bread."

"At three in the morning?" asked Laurel with a quirk of her brow.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I just got home from work and remembered that I promised Len's sister I'd make this for her baking fundraiser thing. I told her you made one hell of a banana bread and she asked me to ask you to make it and... Well... I forgot. So, I decided to make it."

"You?" asked Laurel, apprehension in her voice. "Uh, you sure that was so wise?"

"Yes, _me_! I'm not THAT incompetent in the kitchen, Laurel!"

"You almost burned our apartment down boiling water, Sara!"

"Well, I think it looks okay!" said Sara, motioning toward the oven. Laurel walked forward and squatted next to her sister. She flipped on the small light to the oven and sighed while seeing how full the pan was. "What? What is it?"

"That recipe was for two loaves, Sara, not one."

"Oh... Oh shit," muttered Sara, blinking rapidly now, rubbing her eyes.

"Are... Are you crying?" asked Laurel, reaching out.

"No!" Sara sniffled. "Okay. Yes. Just... It was the ONE thing I promised Len's sister I'd do and now... I messed it all up. What if he gets mad at me?"

"Sweetie, you could set his house on fire, and the man would still love you."

"Love?" she asked timidly.

"Yes. _Love_. Here..." Laurel opened the oven and pulled out the pan carefully to not spill the batter over the edges. "How about I help you?"

"But you have work tomorrow," said Sara. "You said you had court at eight."

"That's what coffee is for," said Laurel, grabbing a wash cloth and cleaning off the counter space. "Clean that bowl out, then peel three bananas, and mash them. We can just cut the recipe in half for one loaf, okay?"

"Ok. Thanks Laurel. You're the best." 

"What are sisters for?" asked Laurel with a smile. "Now get to mashing!"

**END TIME: 4:37PM**


	7. Frosty Fugitive

**Start Time: 2:16PM**

Sara felt adrenaline hit her as she followed the suspect up a flight of stairs. Her feet pounded against the concrete structure as she pumped her arms and did her best to keep up with the hooded man. When she got to the roof access point she drew her gun. She took a deep breath, calming her nerves and her heart-rate, before following the mystery man out. The roof was quiet, the wind ruffling the stray pieces of hair that’d fallen out of her braid, and she winced slightly as the gravel crunched under her boots. Her blue eyes remained peeled for the man as she kept her gun raised, ready for action. 

“Come out,” she demanded. “I know you’re up here. There’s nowhere else for you to go.”

There was a shed and she slowly eased her way toward it. Despite having a vest on, the rookie officer was still nervous over being shot. It also didn’t stop the perp from shooting her in the head. She kicked the door open and sighed when seeing it was empty save for boxes of gardening tools. She felt the hairs at the back of her neck rise and she whirled around only to have something strike her hand. Her grip on her gun failed and it clattered to the ground. The perp kicked it away before raising what looked to be a pipe at her. She fought the urge to cradle her hand. 

“I didn’t do it,” he insisted, face masked by the hood.

“Says the guy who just assaulted a police officer.”

“If you arrest me, the system will go against me, and I can’t have that,” he said. “I didn’t do it. And I can prove it. I just need time.”

“You can tell me,” she said, trying to talk him down. “I can help you.”

“It’s what people like you always say, but in the end, it never happens.” He reached out with his other hand. “Cuffs?”

“I don’t think so,” she said. 

“Then I guess you leave me no choice.” Sara Lance watched in complete amazement as ice formed from the fingertips to the elbows of Leonard Snart. She saw frost form on the pipe before he tossed it down. “Sorry about this.”

“What the hell?” she shouted just as he shot down enough ice to encase her feet. She felt the cold and she struggled, but the ice had her stuck. “Let me out of this!”

“Don’t worry, officer, I’ll leave you the pipe to chisel your way out.”

“You won’t get away with this!” she shouted. “And this is only makes you look even more guilty, Leonard!”

He paused before pulling the hood of his hoodie down. Two sets of blue eyes met, both stubborn, and both determined. He got closer, and she could feel the chill coming from him. Feel the frosty breath as it traveled over the skin of her face. She was looking into the face of a stranger, not the same kid she’d grown up with in the rougher parts of Central City. 

“I’d never kill my sister. Never. But I will find who did.”

“And then?” she asked. 

“Then... I kill them. _Then_ I’ll turn myself in.”

He flipped the hood of his sweatshirt back up and turned away from her. Sara’s mind went to her taser on her belt and she drew it. Without warning she shot it, sending the metahuman to his knees. When he fell, she sighed before using her radio. 

“Dispatch this is Officer Lance on the rooftop of Lex Corp asking for backup. I have the suspect in custody but... Need a little help finishing the job. Also need a meta-collar.”

“Dispatch this is Officer Hunter responding. Will arrive at the scene in five minutes.”

“Take your time,” said Sara out-loud to herself as she maneuvered her way to the fallen pipe and started hitting the ice at her feet, all while keeping her eyes on her downed suspect. 

**End Time: 2:26pm**


	8. Leverage

**Start Time: 7:08pm**

“You have made some people very angry, Leonard Snart.”

Leonard Snart, aka Captain Cold, looked up at the woman in black leather with seething blue eyes that promised all kinds of payback. His arms were killing him from how she had them secured behind his back with a knot he’d tried (and failed) to undo. Had she put him in cuffs he’d have been able to lock-pick his way out of them. Then again, that was probably the reason why she’d gone for the rope instead. The hemp was digging into his wrists and he knew it would leave marks. His parka lay across a table filled with many different knives and other gadgets that were perfect for torture. The woman, known as the Canary to the underbellies he associated himself with, wasn’t really bothering to look at them though. She was straddling a chair, leaning forward slightly to balance on just two legs, her piercing blue eyes setting him on edge.

“Says the woman behind a mask,” said Leonard. “Tell me, Canary, who is it that you are hiding from? Hm?”

All it earned him was a quirked lip. She rose from the chair then reached out with her gloved hand as she walked behind him. He hated being touched and it was no different with her. She trailed her fingertips over the back of his shoulders and neck and he felt a horrid chill travel down his spine. He hated feeling useless. Helpless. When he got free he’d kill her. He’d kill her and he wouldn’t feel bad about it. 

“Where is it?” she asked, now going to that table to pick up a small knife, almost lovingly caressing the blade with her gloved hands. “The disk you stole from Wayne Enterprises.”

“Already sold it,” he said, the lie traveling smoothly from his lips. 

“That is a lie. You’ve been watched since you’ve left the tower in Gotham. The people who want that data are willing to kill you for it. This is me, giving you a chance to turn it over. No harm and no foul.”

“I am to believe that you won’t kill me once you get what you want?” he asked. 

“Yes.”

He laughed at that, shaking his head. The woman tilted her head to the side, the massive bundle of blonde curls falling down over her one shoulder as she walked closer. Sometimes heroes wore wigs, but her hair was natural. He couldn’t help but to think he’d seen it before. He just couldn’t remember from _where_. Her steps were silent, like a damn ninja. Oh, Mick would get a kick out of this woman… Right before he burned her alive. 

“Listen, Leonard, I don’t want to get personal. But you leave me with no choice. I know you. You’re like me. You can take whatever abuse is thrown at you. The lives we’ve lived have us not caring what happens to us.” 

She reached into her back pocket and produced a phone. She ran her fingers over it before showing him a picture. Immediately he tensed and he did his best to launch forward but he was still tied up too tight. It was Lisa. The bitch was showing him a picture of Lisa. In their place. Watching TV.

“Tell me or she dies.”

“You bitch!” he shouted.

“Tell me… Or she dies…”

He was working his jaw, a dark promise in his eyes while he snapped his head to his discarded coldgun. “Secret compartment. In the handle of the gun.”

“Sneaky, sneaky,” said the Canary, walking to the gun and sure enough the small flash-drive fell into her hand. “Good boy.”

“You better hope I never see you again. Because if I do. You’re dead.”

The Canary laughed. 

“I look forward to it,” she said, walking toward him. She pulled her hand back then hit him as hard as she could with a right cross. When he came to he was untied and on the floor.

Alone.

.

.

.

“Yes, Lenny, I’m fine,” insisted Lisa, pacing back and forth in the living room. “You’re on your way? Okay, I’ll see you soon.” 

She turned off the phone then turned to the woman sitting in a chair with her legs crossed. The Canary. Lisa sighed while hanging up her phone, pocketing it with the drive she’d put in her jeans as well. She’d have to hide it before Leonard made his way back to the safe house. 

“He’s on his way.” She picked up a duffel filled with cash, tossing it at the Canary who caught it easily. “A little extra in there for your trouble.”

“Pleasure doing business,” said the Canary. “Though I have to ask. Why the double cross against your brother?”

“Because, Sara, he’s an asshole. And if he gave Luthor that info he stole for him we’re all fucked. There was a reason why Bruce Wayne shut all that research down.”

“Didn’t take you for the hero,” said the Canary, slowly unzipping the bag to make sure there was money inside: not that she didn’t trust her old friend.

“Yeah, well, neither of us are heroes but I kindly frown upon the annihilation of the planet we live on. Thanks again, Sara.”

“You’re welcome, Lisa… You know, you don’t have to wait for a crisis to reach out to to me. Just because my sister helps run the Birds of Prey doesn’t mean I’m suddenly someone you can’t trust.” Sara smirked while shouldering the bag. “Especially if money is involved.”

“I know… I… I’ll keep in touch this time. Promise.” Lisa nodded toward the window. “Go. Before he gets back.”

“Later, Lisa,” said the Canary as Sara exited out the window she’d come in. It’d been a long time since Sara had worked a job like this. She rather enjoyed it. Something, she was certain, her hero sister would frown upon. The same sister who kept insisting she should walk in the light as the White Canary instead of holding onto her past as the Canary. 

“Goodbye, Sara.”

**END TIME: 7:18pm**


	9. That Boy

##  **That Boy**

**START TIME: 2:06am**

“That boy. What’s his name?”

“What boy?” asked Kara, sucking on the end of her pen while studying her notes. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on a problem and she jumped, steadying her books as Sara kicked out and hit her leg. “Hey! What?!”

“That boy,” said Sara, pointing to a boy who looked older leaning against the lockers. He had on a black hoodie, black jeans, and boots. Kara sighed while Sara eyed him up and down. He was definitely Sara’s type. He just screamed bad boy. “I’ve never seen him before.”

“It’s because he comes when he feels like it,” said Kara, adjusting her glassing before looking back down at her math problem. “That’s Leonard Snart.”

“I’m going to go say hi,” said Sara. 

“Please don’t. Many girls have tried and many have failed. Some boys, too, from what I hear.”

“Well, they aren’t me,” said Sara, flicking her hair over her shoulder. She stuffed her books into her bag and was about to go talk to him when she noticed her sister squaring off to Nancy. Ugh. The girl had been sniffing around Oliver, her sister’s boyfriend. Oliver, the pig, ate the attention all up. Now her sister was paying the price. Going away from her mission, Sara saddled up to her sister and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Hey there, Nancy, looking as slutty as ever.”

“Sara. How nice of you to butt into our private conversation.”

“It’s what little sisters do.” Sara tilted her head to the side. “Don’t you have a football or basketball player to go bug? You can’t expect to get those much-needed breast implants on the salary of whatever business would want to hire someone with your pea-sized brain.”

“UGH! Sara Lance! You’re such a cow!”

“Moo,” called out Sara as Nancy trounced away. She then faced Laurel and hugged her tightly when seeing her unshed tears. 

“Thanks,” said Laurel softly. “I had her handled though.”

“When are you going to break up with Oliver? He started off sweet, but he’s just not worth this, Laurel. Every day it’s someone new who is flirting with him and he still doesn’t say no. Even if you’re standing right there!”

“He...” Laurel sighed. “Can we talk about this later? I’m late.”

“Sure.” Sara watched as her sister headed off toward her cheerleading practice, her ponytail bobbing behind her as she rushed to the gym. Sighing, Sara turned on the heel of her boot and paused when seeing someone staring at her.

It was Leonard.

She offered him a wink before going to her locker, all while ignoring all the butterflies that were suddenly fluttering in the pit of her stomach. He was even hotter up close. And his eyes. Jesus! When she got to her locker she look back over her shoulder and sighed in slight disappointment when seeing that he was gone. She gathered the rest of her things then headed outside. While Laurel liked to participate in extra circulars, Sara had much better things to do. Well, except she had to wait for Laurel to be done with practice. Since she drove them to school that day. She blinked when the sun hit her eyes as she exited the school then headed down the steps. She stopped when Leonard stood beside her, bag over his shoulder. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” said Sara as someone else, someone taller and bulkier, stood on her other side. “Um...”

“We overheard some punks talking about getting back at you for mouthing off to Nancy,” said the larger guy. “Len here decided to play bodyguard.”

“Really?” asked Sara, turning to look at Leonard, who only rolled his eyes and shrugged. 

“Anyone willing to stick up for their sister deserves to not get jumped by a group of cowardly girls,” he said, pointing to the said group of girls. At the front of the group was Nancy who was looking more than a little put out. 

“Trust me when I say I could handle them,” said Sara. 

“We don’t doubt it,” said Leonard, gesturing toward a bench. “But considering we both have to wait for our sisters to get out of cheerleading practice, and Mick here has nothing better to do since he was kicked off the football team--- How about we keep each other company?”

“Sure,” said Sara. “I’d like that.”  
  
 **END TIME: 2:16am**


	10. Appealing Apparitions

**Start Time: 11:45pm**

“How is it possible that you still have hope for me?”

They were standing together. Facing off. Her with her bo staff and standing at the ready. He with his coldgun pointed right at her. She remembered a time in her past and his soon-to-be future where they’d been in a position like this. Right before he died. This version of the man she knew wasn’t the same as the one she’d kissed goodbye. This one was younger. Colder. A goddamn villain. 

“Because you heard it yourself,” she said, blue eyes as fierce as his behind his goggles, filled with determination. “You were one of us.”

“ _Were_. Past tense. Something I’m lookin’ to change.”

“Time wants to happen,” she argued.

“So they say.” He pressed on the trigger a little more firmly, head tilting to the side. He was getting used to the weight of the coldgun that the Legion of Doom had gifted him. The gift they insisted he could keep so long as he did a few jobs for them. A price he was willing to pay for a weapon as fine as this one. “Time can also change. According to the man in yellow.”

“He’s wrong,” she said. “Leonard, please listen to me-”

“Sorry, Canary, but I’m _done_ listening.”

He fired, but he made his shot wide. On purpose. Enough to distract her like he’d wanted. She’d shuffled to avoid the hit and he charged forward. He swung the coldgun at her and she brought up her staff to block. The hit reverberated into her wrists and down to her elbows, making her wince. She brought up a knee and clipped his side. He went down, moved to sweep her legs out from under her but she evaded with a jump back. He rolled to his feet, coldgun back up and aimed at her. If he pulled the trigger, he’d freeze her heart, and the problem that was Sara Lance would be gone.

Both of them knew he wasn’t going to pull the trigger. 

She knew because she saw it in his eyes. That he didn’t want to kill her. He knew, because a small part of him was hesitant to, as if he knew he was forgetting something. Like she was important despite him never having met her until his first day with Darhk. 

“You’re better than this, Leonard!” she shouted at him.

“So you keep telling me,” he said before aiming the gun down. He fired, his setting low enough to trap her foot but not cause any serious damage to her body. She shouted as he left, smacking the ice with her baton, asking him to stop. To listen. To come back to the Waverider with her and Mick, a much older version of the man he’d partnered with not long ago for the first time since their stint in juvie together. It was all too much, and so her words went ignored. He left her, knowing her team would find her, and walked out into the night with the plans he’d been sent to steal weighing heavy in his pocket. 

“You’re a moron,” said a voice, _his_ voice, to his left. He turned to see, well, himself. Older, with graying hair and more lines on his face. He’d been seeing him. Just flickers here and there. He’d thought he’d been going crazy. This was the first time whatever this was talked to him. 

“And you’re a figment of my imagination,” he drawled back, making the older version of himself snort. He was flickering in and out, like a television station that wasn’t quite in tune with the right signal. “A trick from the Legends.”

“I’m no trick. Should I prove it to you? Tell you something no one else knows? What story from our past should I tell? Hm? How about the one where one night you wet the bed and dear old Dad locked you in the closet, still wet and smelling like piss because kids who acted like dogs got treated like dogs. Or the time you decided to hide money you earned or found and started a fund to get you, Lisa, and your mom out of the house... but she died before you could do that and your dear ole dad found your stash and spent it on booze and cheap smokes the night of her funeral.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, going to the ship that would take him back to the forties where their main base was. He tossed the coldgun down on the passenger seat before bringing his gloved hands to his head, closing his eyes behind the goggles tightly while trying to clear his mind. “You’re not real.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Just like you keep telling yourself that Mick means nothing... That _she_ means nothing...” The older version of himself smirked as he remained silent. “Yeah. She’s hard not to like. You could have killed her. More than once. So why didn’t you?”

_‘You’re better than this, Leonard!’  
_

“Because it wasn’t part of the plan,” said the younger Snart, now glaring at the older version who only rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

“How about you go haunt your old teammates instead, huh? You’re dead. You died trying to play hero. Well, I’m no hero. I refuse to make the same mistakes you did! I plan on living! You hear me?!”

But the older version was gone, and he sighed a sigh of relief before starting the ship and going back to his team... All while that doubt that he’d been feeling did nothing but grow and grow... So when it came time to hand Darhk the plans, he kept a page hidden away for himself. 

Just in case.

Not at all noticing the smirking man in the shadows.

**END TIME: 11:55**


	11. Being Cheesy

_snippet after tonight’s episode:_

“Mick? Can we talk?”

“Sure,” he said, not looking at her, too busy feeding chunks of cheese to his new pet rat in his room. He handed the rodent one last piece before turning to Sara. She had her arms crossed over her chest and a serious look on her face. He frowned at that, leaning back against the table the rat’s cage rest upon, reaching for his beer and taking a drink before speaking. “Spit it out, Blondie.”

“I’m sorry, for earlier.”

“What? For trying to give me orders?” He shrugged. “Wasn’t gunna follow them, anyway.”

“It’s just…” She sighed. “I was so focused on keeping to the mission. Though, I’m glad that I listened to my gut in the end. Protecting the crew is my top priority. Then the spear. We’ve already lost too many people…Though, I might regret that decision if Darkh gets all the pieces.”

“Yeah,” he said, turning somber, thinking about Leonard before shaking those feelings away by twisting her words around with a smirk. “Didn’t know you cared. What? Worried about me?”

“I worry about _everyone_.”

“Right. Right.” He grew serious once more. “What are we gunna do about Rip?”

“I don’t know.” She bit her bottom lip. “What the Timemasters did to you… How you undid it…”

He shook his head. “This is different.”

“I was worried you’d say that.”

“Well, if all else… We can take turns punching him. Scramble his brains back to the right way they’re supposed to be.”

“I don’t think so,” she said dryly.

“Just a suggestion.”

“So we good?” she asked after a minute pause. 

“Yeah. We’re good.” He said that, just as the lights went out. “The hell?”

“Gideon?” asked Sara.

No answer.

“Well… That can’t be good,” said Mick.

“No. It isn’t.”

**END**


	12. Kiss the Girl

**Start Time: 4:00am** _(why am i still awake?)_

“Jax can do it.”

“Wait. _What_?” asked Jefferson Jackson, now licking his lips nervously as his eyes trailed toward the woman leaning against the counter. “Why can’t _you_ do it?”

Sara glanced over at the woman. She had long black hair that curled at the ends. Her frame was tall and lean. In a way, she looked very similar to Nyssa, only the tone of her skin was darker---and her posture was softer and not that of a warrior. She was hot, and Sara would have no problems trying to seduce her. However...

“She’s straight,” said Sara. “I can tell. And a little young for me.”

Jackson made a  _‘tt_ ’ sound before rolling his eyes. “Like **_that’s_** ever stopped you.”

“What’s the matter?” asked Sara, egging him on. “Can’t talk to women?”

“I’ve talked to plenty of women. Okay?” he assured, fidgeting now. He once again looked to the girl. She was smiling, tucking strands of hair behind her ear, still waiting for her to-go order. She was the daughter of the mayor. The same mayor that would die if they didn’t intervene. He was an important political leader who would bring the world together in ways that was unimaginable in their time.

“Then go get her,” said Sara, giving him a push forward. He stumbled slightly, straightened, then shot a glare over his shoulder at Sara before moving toward the girl. She turned as he got close and he took that moment as his opening. Soon, he had a front full of milkshake---and the girl, Larissa was her name, apologizing profusely while trying to wipe it off with napkins. 

“I’m such a klutz,” she said, face turning red at the cheeks.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Accidents happen.” He sighed as his shirt clung to his body. “Just sucks now because I came here. And the airport lost my luggage. And I have no clothes to change into.”

“Now I just feel awful!” she said, looking up at him. He felt that spark he’d hadn’t felt in a long time while his brown eyes connected with her hazel ones. _Attraction_. Soon, he was smiling softly---shrugging a shoulder. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. I think.”

“Maybe...” She shook her head. “Come back to my place. I can get your clothes washed. My brother is around your size. You can borrow some of his clothes.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” said Jax. 

“I insist. Please?”

“Ok. Sure. I’m Jax.”

“Larissa.”

.

.

.

“He’s gunna get a kiss,” said Mick, coming to stand beside Sara. 

“Think so?” she asked, watching the scene unfold as well. They were sitting in the front seats of the stolen car. They had saved the mayor. And Larissa. She’d seen Jax aflame and had been amazed. The others had left already. Sara had hung back so that Jax could say goodbye. She knew how it was, to find a kindred spirit in another time, and to have to say goodbye.

“Oh yeah. She’s giving him the eyes.”

Sure enough, the girl stepped forward, went up on her toes: and kissed him. Mick chuckled and Sara sighed. She was happy for Jax. Besides, she’d gotten many kisses from many women throughout history. It was his turn. Though she fought the urge to pout while the kiss intensified for a moment before they reluctantly separated from each other.

He came back to the car, a soft smile on his face, and entered the back. When the door closed, Mick put the car into gear, and they drove off with Larissa waving until they reached the main road. 

“So? How was it?” asked Sara. 

“I don’t kiss and tell,” said Jax with a smirk. 

“That good, huh?” asked Mick. 

“Yeah,” said Jax, after a moment. “That good.”

**End Time: 4:10am**


	13. Pink

**Start Time: 6:26 pm**

The first thing that caught his attention was the flash of pink against the faded gray garb they were all forced to wear here. He stopped his secret writing in the small, smuggled notepad to stare at the woman who had hot pink hair and was bobbing her head to a song only she could hear. She was dancing, and he sat back in his chair to admire the show, all while his friend chuckled beside him. 

“Fresh meat,” said Mick Rory, fingertips rubbing together… Probably wishing he had a lighter to flick. “Tossed in with the big boys… Must be dangerous.”

“So it seems,” he said, watching as someone went up to the girl. They tried talking to her and she ignored them, flipping them off. They didn’t like that much and went to grab her… Then started screaming in pain as she broke their fingers… And quite possibly their wrist. Leonard shared a look with his friend Mick, who was raising his eyebrows in interest as well as more boys decided to try and take her down while the small handful of girls in this area of the detention center backed up toward the walls. Mick and Leonard watched as guards tried to break it up, dragging the girl away who spat at the boys who continued to try and grab her.

“So it seems,” repeated Leonard, his interest piqued. 

.

.

.

“What are you in for?” he asked, standing at the table she sat at with his lunch tray in his hands.. She ignored him, twisting the plastic knife in her hand. He watched as it spun around and around until she snapped it, making him look back at her. Her eyes… They were blue. 

Lethal. 

Cold.

“Why do _you_ care?” she asked, voice soft, but filled with the sweet promise of violence. 

“Oh, just curious,” he said, sitting across from her, slouching in his seat. She frowned, as if not happy about him being in her space, but didn’t say anything as he started eating the mush that passed as food. 

“How about you tell me why _you_ are here… And I’ll _think_ about telling you my story.”

“Killed my father.” He shrugged, it really was no secret. It’d been all over the papers. “He went after my sister. I didn’t like it. Stabbed him right in the heart with an icicle that’d been hanging in the doorway.” He shrugged again. “Bastard had it coming. Merry Christmas to me.”

“I set my family on fire,” said Mick, having overheard Leonard sharing on his way over. He tossed his tray down, some of the food slopping onto the table. She wrinkled her nose but looked up at Mick instead. “Well… I set the house on fire. With them in it. Still…”

“I heard about it,” she said. “You’re Mick Rory. You laughed when they found you guilty. Why?”

“Because they deserved to die,” he said, as casual as can be. 

“I see.” She lifted a brow at Leonard. “And you are?”

“Leonard Snart.”

She pursed her lips before running a hand through that pink hair of hers. It was slightly tangled, wild strands sticking out here and there. Her eyes, though… He just couldn’t stop staring. 

“Sara. Sara Lance.”

“And why are you here, Sara?”

“Was on some serious shit and they found me strangling my sister’s boyfriend’s sister…” She shrugged. “She’s a bit of a bitch. Had some good drugs. Wouldn’t share. Well… She got a slap on the wrist and I got tossed here…”

“Well, you did try killing someone.” Leonard smiled. “ _Try_ being the word.”

“Yeah, well, there’s always next time,” she said with a smirk, making Leonard and Mick both laugh. 

“So, Sara,” said Leonard, leaning forward, his tone lowering while he looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Wanna bust out of this joint?”

She grinned. “What do you have in mind?”

“Still planning. It was just going to be Mick and I but…” Leonard shrugged. “Turns out my plan needs a third party. And I think you’ll be perfect for the job…”

“Hm… I’m in,” she said, bracing her head on her hand, biting her bottom lip, getting both of the older boys to stare at it in interest. “So long as I get to participate in something violent.”

“Oh yeah,” said Mick. “She’ll do nicely.”

**End Time: 6:36pm**


	14. Tattoo

_Inspired by this pic:_

 

**Start Time: 5:51am**

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“Oh  _please_ , it was your idea.”

Sara huffed, toes digging slightly into the material beneath her feet, making the tattoo artist named Mick (who her sister has been discreetly checking out for the past ten minutes) grunt in irritation. Sara sighed while relaxing her foot once more. Mick hummed his approval before working on the intricate design she’d picked out. Sara knew the top of her foot was one of the most sensitive places to get a tattoo, but she’d always wanted one. After a night out  with her sister, who could be there for moral support: she finally decided to get one. Laurel placed supportive hands on her shoulders before resting her chin on one of her hands to peer at the progress of the tattoo. 

_Yeah right, she’s totally checking that Mick guy out again._

“It’s going to look really nice, Sara,” said Laurel, watching as Mick wiped off some of the excess ink. 

“Yeah?” asked Sara, peering down at her foot.

“Yeah.”

“You could always get a matching one,” suggested Sara with a grin, Laurel pursing her lips in thought before shrugging a shoulder. 

“Maybe. What do you say, Mick? Two for one special?”

“No discounts,” mumbled Mick, who then looked up to wink at Laurel. “Unless you ask nicely, Sweetheart, then maybe we can make a deal.”

“Way to make me feel like a third wheel,” whispered Sara softly into her sister’s ear, earning a giggle. 

“Sorry.”

Sara winced as the needle hit a super sensitive spot, hissing in a breath, making Laurel’s hands tighten on her shoulders. Sara was soon once more relaxed. She took the time to study Mick’s tattoos. They were good, too. 

“Who did all your ink?”

“I did some,” he said, making Sara think he was pretty badass for tattooing his own body. “My pal’s sister Lisa did the rest.”

“Cool,” said Sara. 

“After the tattoos you want to grab some pizza?” asked Laurel. 

“All I’ll want after this is a cold beer.”

“The only thing you  _should_ be drinking after this is water… Alcohol thins the blood. Could fuck up the tat,” warned Mick.

Sara pouted. “Man!”

“Don’t worry, Sis. I have  _plenty_ of water at my place…”

**End Time: 6:01am**


	15. You'd Hate Him

**Start Time: 4:31**

 

## “You’d hate him.”

Sara was alone, in her room, reaching for a bottle of scotch. She surpassed the glass, taking a long pull from the bottle and swallowing it, the warmth traveling down her throat into her belly. She set the bottle down and started disrobing. 

“He’s nothing like you. Well, personality wise. He’s outgoing, wears his heart on his sleeve, and likes to hug...  _A lot_.”

She pulled on a simple, white tank-top and a pair of grey sweats. She put her hair up in a ponytail then grabbed the bottle of scotch and went to sit on her bed. She leaned her back against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment before taking another drink. 

“You know he hugged Barry? It’s true. I can just see the look on your face right now.” She smirked, but it quickly fell until her lips were set in a line. “Take care of Martin up there, Snart. He wasn’t ready to go. Then again, who is?”

It was then she let a tear escape. She’d been strong for her team, but now that she was alone she could let the cracks show. She’d let another member of her team down. She didn’t even wipe the tears away. She let them fall. Like she had for Snart after he sacrificed himself to save them all. 

“He’s been glued to Mick’s side. Guess he has his own ghosts, too. The Mick from his world died... Saving cops if you can believe it! I worry, though, what having him along will do to the rest of the team. I’m hoping more good than bad. Give some of them the closure they need. Unfinished business. But don’t worry...” She pressed her fingers to her lips then reached over to settle her fingers over a deck of cards sitting on a small shelf by the head of her bed. “I won’t kiss him. And not just because he has someone waiting for him back on his Earth...” That smirk was back on her lips, playful and coy. “You’re the only Snart who will ever get that privilege.”

Sara ignored the sudden chill at the base of her neck. She took one last sip of scotch before setting it on the shelf by the cards. She climbed under the covers. After instructing Gideon to dim the lights and making sure her knife was still under the pillow, Sara just stared up at the ceiling until exhaustion pulled her under. 

 

**End Time: 4:41**


	16. One Day At a Time

##  **One Day At a Time (Laurel & Sara)**

**Start Time: 11:58pm**

The one thing Laurel had to get used to was being cold all the time. It didn’t matter if she wore layers. It didn’t matter if she had Gideon set the room to 100 degrees. She was always so cold. Like a part of her was missing. Sara had tried to comfort her. To try and be there for her because she’d gone through the same thing. Laurel wasn’t sure how Sara could stand it. 

Being cold.

Being a killer.

It had been a mistake. A  _horrible_ mistake. No one other than Sara knew of the horrors that awaited the person being brought back. Well, Laurel had known, because she’d put her sister in chains. She’d seen the dead look in her eyes. Laurel shivered even more now just thinking about it. Thinking about how she probably had the same dead look in her eyes.

She’d been brought back from the dead. Just like her sister. 

The Lazarus Pit had been destroyed in her time. But it thrived in the past. And they’d taken her back to a time before the League of Assassins had found it. Mick and Ray had brought her back. They’d insisted they’d done it for Sara. To make her happy again. Because she’d lost so much. 

Sara had nearly killed them, right then and there, when she came upon the pit after realizing they’d taken Laurel there. But then Laurel had risen, and nearly killed them all with her insanity. Laurel didn’t remember it. Not all of it. Mick was happy to fill in the missing pieces.

They’d called upon Constantine once more to save her soul. They’d brought Oliver on to help. He was the only one back at Star City who knew she was alive. Sara had been adamant to not tell anyone. Not even Felicity. Something about disrupting the timeline. Laurel didn’t remember most of it. She was reeling from being told she might never get to go home again. 

Laurel wondered if he’d told her. She bet he had. He’d always shown Felicity a loyalty never given to her. He never,  _ever_ , put Laurel first the way he did her. He did nothing to Laurel but lie and cheat. He’d used her. Betrayed her. He---

She gasped when she felt the sharp pain in her palms. She opened her hands to see bloody crescents, driblets of blood rising from where she’d dug in her nails.

God, how the guilt hit her now, having brought Sara back.

It was hell. All of it. The feeling of going insane. Of feeling empty. Of that building blood rage which was only quelled by violence and death.

So she fought and she trained. First with Sara and when she gained more of a control she sparred with Mick and Amaya. No one trusted her with Nate or Ray yet. With good reason. She might kill them. 

“Laurel?”

She blinked, hiding her hands in her pockets, turning on her heel to stare at Sara. She offered a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Yeah?”

“We got a level five. You want in? It’s a good way to get your toes wet.”

Laurel thought about her earlier reaction to Oliver. Over just telling the woman he loved, and a woman she considered friend, that she was alive.

“Maybe next time. I’ll go up to the bridge. Monitor things there with Gideon.”

“Okay,” said Sara with a nod. She hesitated before continuing. “Just one day at a time. Okay?”

“One day at a time,” said Laurel with a nod of her own. When Sara left, her smile went with her, and Laurel brought out her bloody hands to stare down at them. They were trembling. Not out of pain or fear. But out of excitement. The blood on her hands might be hers, but it felt like it was someone else’s. And she  _liked_ it. So she closed her eyes, took a calming breath, and then opened them again when she felt she could focus. “One day at a time...”

**End Time: 12:08am**


	17. Don't Cry (Sara Lance)

Note: I had written this last night and hadn't posted it because I got busy before proof-reading the spelling. So I just got to it today. Hence, why the posting times don't quite match up!

 

**Start Time: 5:15pm**

.

.

.

Sara sat alone in what used to be Rip’s office, nursing a glass of whiskey while contemplating the events that happened in the past twenty-four hours. There had been Iris and Barry’s almost wedding, crashed by the Natzi army lead by twisted versions of Oliver and Kara... Meeting a sick version of her father who admitted he’d killed the version of her on that Earth... A thought that had her shivering and taking a sip of her drink. There had been Alex, the thought of her making her lips quirk slightly. Then... Martin. 

Her lips set themselves into a grim line, her blue eyes darkening when thinking about him. She felt sad, yes, but she also felt guilty for not protecting a member of her team. She’d told the others she’d mourn him in private, that she hadn’t the time to cry.

The thing was... Sara Lance was out of tears.

She had cried for Laurel.

She had cried for Leonard.

She had even allowed a tear to fall when Rip had left the Legends behind.

She cried for the loss of her innocence on the Amazo all those years ago. 

She cried when Nyssa and her parted ways... More than once.

She cried when she left her family. 

She cried when she was brought back from the grave, everything looking like ash and smelling of death even with the restoration of her soul. 

She just had no tears left. 

She couldn’t cry for Martin. 

The guilt hit her for it. She felt awful, not being able to shed a tear for the man who had been her friend. Her teammate. She also felt fear. She was so familiar with loss and death that neither affected her anymore. Her emotions were numbed against the onslaught of any form of grief thrown her way. She was immune to emotional pain.

And she hated it.

She hated  _herself_.

Perhaps she was turning into that soulless monster that had risen from the pit...

“Miss Lance?”

“Yes, Gideon?” asked Sara, blinking her eyes and breaking away from the disturbing thought that had her usually steady hand give a slight tremble.

“Mr. Rory is inquiring when the next mission will be. He is threatening to burn down the galley in his boredom.”

Sara scoffed, finished her drink, then set the tumbler down before rising from the chair she was sitting in. She huffed out an irritated breath, blowing her hair out from her eyes, before tapping her earpiece, the mask of captain easily falling back into place instead of the tormented woman that lay beneath. 

“Mick! Settle down! Nate had some leads on some anachronisms in the seventies. And I remember how much you love the seventies!”

**END**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**End Time: 5:25pm**


End file.
